


Wolf

by crimsonadvent



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Metaphors, Pain, Poetry, Red Riding Hood - Freeform, Solavellan, Some form of story, Spoilers, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3378326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She cries wolf as she swaths herself in red cloth, the monster she fell in love is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf

 

So fondly he calls me Vhenan, the word rolls off his tongue like sweet honey. It's warm and full of morning, the golden glow filling me up. His smiles are wide, beyond measure as his magic wraps me in ardent fervor.

 

But then his lips leave me and the scars on my flesh are ripped from my story. Brands of slavery are their tale, unbinding me of the past in his spells. I thought that wings had sprouted in my back, freedom so delicious on my tongue.

 

But they were unreal, the sweet taste so easily gone and now I am falling. Clad in the loss of his arms around me. His words pierced through my being, tearing the strings that tied us together. His words pass by my hearing, my back bear of any feather.

 

His hands alight with his magic, eyes so deep in their sorrow. My heart fills with tears as my words are tragic, what will I be in the morrow? He calls himself pride but the strength is not there. His voice wavers, his eyes glazed as a face is laid bare.

 

I see a woman, her body is lithe and willowy. Her gait is strong and confident, her footsteps are small on the mudded ground. But what is this, the once light in her eyes have dulled and her voice does not sing of joy. She's a husk, the emotions bleeding out of her. A forgotten toy.

 

Her smiles are false, her pain masked in the evening's glow. Hot tears are wiped, small hands fiercly gripping the bow. The cold tension in their lies, the soft whispers of her cries; it fills the night. The bed lies cold, her ears missing his stories, untold.

 

The magic he casts is cold and unknown, the arrows she fired are lit and blown. She shouts out her pain, the night is her shadow as he watches on, the stars only glower. The cries of wolf in her nightmares, she weeps in her sleep for he is no longer there.

 

Her fists hit the cold mirror, her hands bleed at each fragment. She cries out to her reflection, the truth so brazen in her eyes. The lucid moment, the forgotten daydreams. She screams at the loss of his hands, at the torn seams.

 

She cries wolf as she swaths herself in red cloth, the monster she fell in love is gone. Her heart is cold in her palms, the dreams are long as the deed is done.


End file.
